Off the deep end

My officemate is out for two weeks, leaving me in charge of his plants and fish. The fish is a beta (still in development? har har), aka a Siamese fighting fish, but aside from the times that the officemate puts a mirror up to the bowl to get the fish all riled up, he doesn't really have much fight in him.

But let me tell you something: that fish loves to party.

Ever since my roommate (let's call him "John", because that's his name) left, this fish has been hounding me. "Come on, Reid! Let's party! Pour a can of Beast into my bowl!" It got to be too much. His jokes were too funny, his plans for nights out too enticing. So I got some beer, filled up his fish bowl, and 16 hours later, I wake up naked and nearly drowned in the tidal basin with no clue of how I got there.

Now the fish just laughs at me. Trying to get the details of that night, I'll ask him, "What happened?" He'll answer, "You mean, who happened?" and wink at me.

I hate that damn fish.